The Bootlegger’s Legacy (28 page)

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Samantha Rogers was the queen of the world with the promise of being someone important. She knew it was mostly because she was beautiful, but she couldn’t have cared less if the reason was superficial—all she wanted was money and fame. She wasn’t going to work for it, she just wanted it to happen because she looked good, and boy did she ever look good.

Sam would stand in front of her mirror for hours. Sometimes nude, often in an array of outfits. She loved to look at herself. She watched what she ate and exercised a little, but mostly she was a natural beauty. Thanks to her parents, she’d been attractive her whole life with little effort. As thanks for that gift, she generally avoided her parents—they were tiresome.

During high school there had been no one who was more popular. She was the official best looking girl in the school and was chased by every male who had the courage to approach her. She dated many and had sex with most. This was a violation of her beliefs—she was a devout Christian—but she was addicted to sex from a young age. She dealt with the moral conflict by denying it existed, at least for her. By some divine edict, she decided, she was so beautiful that she was entitled to this one privilege. Sam had sex and prayed for forgiveness, over and over, in a perfect logic that only she could understand.

One of her conquests was Mike Allen. Mike was handsome enough, but he wasn’t as popular as most of the boys she allowed to be around her. She liked Mike because he was funny and appreciative of any attention she gave him.

In her senior year, Sam discovered she was pregnant. She contemplated suicide and she contemplated an abortion, but these options were closed to her because they violated her religious beliefs. She took her religion seriously and so far there had only been one exception to her strict ethical code—the one regarding pre-marital sex—that she’d managed to justify, no others. She didn’t even notice the logical contradiction. Realizing that she would have to do something, she decided she would marry one of her many admirers. After that it was only a question of selecting the lucky man.

Sam spent considerable time analyzing all the important qualities of the candidates: hair color, muscles, year of car, color of eyes, and other critical attributes. But the one thing that was going to determine Sam’s decision more than any other was whether she could control her husband-to-be. She wasn’t going to end up married to some creep who wanted to run the show—that was Sam’s job. She needed a husband and a father for her kids who would do what Sam told him to do. Her winner: Mike Allen.

Samantha Rogers would become Samantha Allen. Mike was stunned. It was like winning the grand prize of all grand prizes. They had dated a little, but to have Sam as his wife was not something that he’d even imagined happening—it was too farfetched to even fantasize about. She asked him, he said yes. He had never told anyone, including his best friend Joe, that she had asked him. They wouldn’t have believed it—
he
didn’t believe it.

A week before the scheduled wedding, Sam miscarried. She was relieved because she hadn’t really wanted to be a mother and she took this as a sign that she was destined for greater things. She spent a few hours debating with herself about the wedding. Her feelings for Mike were not love, though she liked him. On the other hand it would be terribly embarrassing to call off the wedding and she really wanted to move out of her parents’ house, so she decided to go ahead and get married. Mike never knew she was pregnant.

Being married to Mike was okay. Nothing special, but she did have the freedom she’d wanted from her parents and she could buy things that her mother would never have approved of. She developed her own friends and became very active in a new church that was just starting. Mike would attend sometimes, but mostly he seemed to drink a lot and hang out with his loser friend, Joe. She was not famous or rich, which made her unhappy, but she felt free, which made her happy.

After Mike’s dad died they had a little more money. Mike didn’t seem all that upset when his dad died, but then they hadn’t talked about it much. With Mike now running the hardware store, he was gone even more. She thought about getting a divorce, but she was reluctant to deal with the conflict it would require.

After Mike’s mother died he seemed to dig himself deeper into the alcohol pit. He would stay out for days and not even let her know. Sam knew now that something had to change, but once again she focused on her church activities and shopping and time passed.

“Sam I think I may be coming into some money. We talked about my dad and his crazy stories—well, it looks like some of them may be true. Or at least have some element of truth.” Mike was talking to her from his hotel room in Las Cruces.

“How much money?”

“Right now it looks like we could end up owning maybe a million dollars in real estate.”

Sam was stunned.

“Did you say a million dollars?”

“That’s what I said. Look, it is not a done deal yet, but this is about my father and some of his business dealings. It’s not something I’m real comfortable with because of how he earned it, but I think we should take some of this money and put it into the church we’ve talked about. Turn bad money to a good purpose.”

Mike really didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew for sure he desperately didn’t want to lose Sam and he knew she was getting close to leaving. The money problems and his drinking were about to drive her away. This money was a miracle.

“With more money we could really make this happen. Start our own church. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“Absolutely. I know this is what you want to do—and if you want to do it—so do I.”

“Let’s do it. We’ll be good at this Mike, I just know it. You have a way with people that you don’t even recognize. We’ll be so good together. I can’t wait. This will be our legacy.”

They said their goodbyes and agreed that they’d talk the next day. Sam was ecstatic. She’d always dreamed of having her own church. There was so much she wanted to do—her real goal being to have a TV ministry. She desperately wanted to be on TV. If only that could happen she knew her beauty would make her popular, just like in high school.

Sam knew at an instinctive level that if she and Mike could get in front of an audience they could convince people to send money. She knew her role—she had been practicing it for years. Sam was wholesome and pure, the perfect woman to secretly desire but whom you couldn’t have. She loved this image of herself.

Sam also knew all of the people to contact. She knew where she could hire the people with the skills they’d need to make this church a success. Everything was about image and marketing and she was ready for success.

Sam also knew that Mike would do what she told him to. In an odd way she had transferred her sexual addition to Mike—she had cured herself, but now used sex to completely control and humiliate him.

She needed to get Mike away from his useless buddy Joe. If there was money around, Mike would find an excuse to give some to Joe for no reason at all. Their long-term friendship had been kind of cute at first, but had become annoying in the last few years. Mike had taken advice from this complete loser about his business, now he was bankrupt. She couldn’t let Joe talk Mike into some stupid scheme involving her money. She needed to exercise even more control over Mike. She needed to do it right now.

Las Cruces, New Mexico / Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

The next morning, Mike called Jeff and told him what Emerson had offered, adding that he wanted to accept the deal.

“Mike, we can handle the legal transfer of the properties as payment for the shares in Blue Devils Development—that can be done in a few days. I guess I don’t know if this is the thing to do, but it’s a business decision so whatever you think is right is what you should do.”

Mike thanked him and said that they should get started. He told Jeff that they were headed to Emerson’s office, where Mike would agree to the deal. He would have Emerson contact Jeff to put all of the paperwork in place.

Joe and Mike followed the pattern of the day before: they packed up, loaded the car, and then checked out of the hotel. They made the quick drive to downtown Las Cruces and parked in front of Emerson’s office.

Emerson was standing in the front area when they entered. He greeted them and showed them to his office.

“Mr. Emerson, we appreciate you sharing the information yesterday. Joe was able to determine that what you had told us regarding the values was correct. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I can’t know for sure what you and my father agreed to, but I think there must have been some kind of understanding since he had left you alone for so many years before he died. If you had an understanding with him, I want to honor it. Of course, I could have convinced myself that none of that was true. My father may have ignored you because he just didn’t care about any of that stuff anymore—he became a different man after he quit bootlegging. But it just doesn’t matter. Bottom line, I want to complete the deal you outlined.”

“I appreciate your candor, and I believe that is the best decision for everyone.” Emerson hadn’t been very expressive at any time since they had met him, but he seemed genuinely pleased that they had agreed. It was also clear that there would be no celebration party and that it was fine with Emerson for them to leave any time they were ready.

“I talked to Jeff Young this morning and instructed him to work with you or your attorney to complete the necessary paperwork. I’m sure I’ll be able to sign in Oklahoma City, and you can do it here. Then we can exchange documents. I don’t anticipate returning to Las Cruces. I wish you luck, Mr. Emerson.”

With that Mike stood to leave. “I’ll instruct my attorney to contact Mr. Young, and I’m sure we can get the documents in shape in a day or two. Thank you again, Mr. Allen, and I wish you a safe trip home.”

Joe and Mike left. They had a 1:00 pm flight, so they needed to head to the airport. They were both quiet along the way. There was no doubt that this was going to change something. As they drove, they discussed how they should proceed in examining the properties. Mike wanted to make sure Joe knew to bill him for all of the time he took helping to make the deal happen. Joe kept his thoughts to himself—he’d turned down $600,000 and now Mike was suggesting he write up a bill for a couple of thousand? Maybe Mike’s new found wealth was making him a complete asshole.

They arrived at the El Paso airport in plenty of time for their flight. They returned the car and went to the counter to check their luggage. The flight home was without incident and without much conversation. Joe thought he was sensing something from Mike, but he wasn’t sure what it was so he left it alone.

At the Oklahoma City airport they went their separate ways, agreeing to touch base once the papers were signed so that they could inspect the properties and talk about how to handle the accounting and management. There was no mention of getting together and celebrating. It felt more like Mike had lost something rather than gained property worth over a million bucks.

The next week, Mike called and left a message for Joe that he had signed all of the documents and had received signed copies from Jeff, so the deal was done. He wanted to meet at Joe’s office the next Friday to discuss accounting matters and maybe make a quick run by the Second Street properties to see what needed to be done with them. He said he should have all of the keys by then.

“Well, Mike, how does it feel to be a man of property?”

“Very funny. So far it’s been nothing except a pain in the butt—but I guess someday the money will start to roll in.”

Joe was starting to get a little annoyed at Mike’s attitude. What the hell did he want, a big pile of cash to just fall in his lap? Jeez, what a fucking grouch this guy was—more assets than he’d ever had and it sounded like he was having to clean the toilets in the damn buildings. What bullshit. Joe was getting pissed, tired of dealing with the “poor me” whining from Mike.

“Hey, why don’t we run over to those Second Street properties and see how bad they are?” Maybe a field trip would help his mood—maybe Mike’s, too.

“Yeah, I guess we don’t exactly need to look at Triples.” Mike was grinning, which was a little better.

“Something else Joe. I heard from the Dallas law firm. They confirmed my dad had hired them to perform certain duties including paying the lock box rental and the property taxes on the cabin. An escrow account had been established and funded to pay those things for approximately fifteen years or until the money ran out. Once they had been notified of the lock box being closed and the property being sold, they sent me a settlement letter. With the letter was a check for about $4,000 which was the remaining balance in the escrow account. So I guess I’m wrong, some money’s rolled in and I should cheer up. Sorry, guess I’m too busy or something to be cheerful. Let’s go look at those old buildings.”

The two properties were next door to one another, so they parked in front. Both of them had driven past since the purchase, so the condition of the outside wasn’t a surprise. What the insides looked like, they had no idea. The outside was obviously in need of some attention, maybe a lot. Joe guessed it had been many years since much had been done on the buildings. Some windows were boarded up with plywood, while others had been painted over so you couldn’t see inside. Layers of graffiti covered most of the walls. Joe thought Mike should probably just take a minimum offer on the old things and get rid of them and Mike thought that was probably right.